Be for me, no more
than you have hidden away
in self-deception. Today,
tomorrow, into next week,
make yourself real for me;
toss the curried bullcrap out
with that bouquet of empty words
you're so clever with. Those tapping feet
need to settle down in an honest rhythm
of sound that catches my attention,
that makes me want to press
my cheek to yours, in simple friendship.
All the wrong things are at the top
of your list.
Copyright © maggie flanaganwilkie